


A Secret Rendezvous

by awriternamedian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, And He Likes Her, Dean Winchester Likes It Rough, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuckbuddies, I'm Sorry, Knotting, Mostly Because She Like It Rough, My First AO3 Post, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, This is trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awriternamedian/pseuds/awriternamedian
Summary: Sam's not sure where Dean keeps sneaking off to, but he always seems to come home in a great mood and smelling faintly of a bonfire.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first ABO story, and definitely my first Supernatural fic, so please be easy on me <3 I might write more in this, but for now this is a one shot.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Sam asked, watching as his brother packed a bag.

Dean shook his head. “Just a salt and burn, doesn’t need the both of us. I’ll be gone two days, three max.” He grinned. “Try not to burn the place down.” Sam rolled his eyes, stepping out of the way as Dean left. He was hiding something. Sam wasn’t sure what it was, but Dean had been acting cagey recently. More salt and burns, ones he didn’t want Sam to come on. A couple days here, a couple days there. He’d even spent his most recent rut out of the bunker.

All he could hope was that Dean eventually broke down and told him the truth. But he had to open up on his own, no amount of pushing would get him there sooner. Sam sighed, listening to the sound of the Impala start up and speed away. Eventually he’d tell him the truth.

Rain was coming down in thick, heavy sheets, forcing Dean to drive slower than he wanted. His fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel. His destination was only four hours away normally, but that was with him speeding the whole time. It felt like it took twice as long this time, and by the time he reached the little cabin, his whole body was on edge.

He was soaked to the bone by the time he dashed to the front porch. Before he could knock, the door swung open, revealing a petite redhead. She leaned her hip on the door frame, arching an eyebrow at him. “You’re looking a little wet there Winchester,” she said, her voice smooth and elegant. Without answering he stalked forward, a hand sinking into her hair as his lips descended on hers.

There was no gentleness, no introduction. They stumbled backwards, devouring each other, forgetting in their haste to close the front door. “Strip,” he growled, already pulling off his flannel. He watched with dark eyes as she pulled her loose sleep shirt up and over her head, leaving her in only a pair of lace panties. Her thumbs hooked into those but before she could shimmy them down, he was on her again.

“Fuck, you get more gorgeous every time I see you,” he groaned, hands sliding roughly down her waist, tracing her toned stomach and wide hips.

“Careful there Winchester,” she murmured into his mouth. “I might start thinking you like me or something.” He growled, backing her up until her legs hit the bed. She stumbled, sprawling across it on her back, looking up at him with wide grey eyes. Her pupils were blown wide with lust, and there was a red flush across her pale skin.

His fingers curled into her panties, yanking them hard enough to tear the lace, shredding them from her body. A pout curled on her pink lips. “I liked those,” she complained. “You didn’t have to- Oh fuck!” Her head fell back, all complaints gone as he threw her legs over his shoulders and swiped his tongue up the length of her pussy. She was already soaked, her slick starting to drip the moment she’d heard the Impala pull up to her cabin.

“You taste so good,” he moaned, licking it up as quickly as he could, tongue delving into her channel before flicking up across her clit. Her hips jerked and he growled, wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub and attacking it roughly with his tongue and teeth, knowing that would send her spiraling towards her first orgasm. “Could stay down here all night.” A sharp nip on her thigh made her gasp.

“You’d better not,” she snapped, though there was no heat in her voice. “I need-” The words were cut off again as his mouth moved back to her clit. Two fingers slid inside of her, just as tight a fit as it always was. Compared to his mouth, his fingers were almost gentle as they stroked in and out of her. “Oh gods, Dean, I’m gonna come,” she whined, her hips rocking, grinding on his face and hand. The tension in her core built and built until she exploded with a cry, her body arching off the bed.

The assault on her clit stopped as he pulled back, though his fingers kept their slow thrusts. He crawled up her body, taking the time to kiss every bit of exposed skin, spending extra time to nibble at her nipples. Finally he made his way up, sliding his lips across hers, their tongues dancing so that she could taste herself. Her arms wound around his shoulders, trying to drag him closer.

“Dean, please, I need you inside of me,” she pleaded, trying to hook her legs around his hips, whining when he pulled away. To her relief he only left long enough to shove down his jeans and boxers before he was on her again, body sprawled along the length of hers.

His lips trailed down her throat as his cock ground against her sensitive pussy. “This what you need sweetheart?” He murmured into her shoulder, making her whine. Her legs wrapped around his hips, a hand coming down between them to line his cock up with her hole. “Impatient tonight.” A sharp nip to her throat and then he was sinking inside of her. They both groaned as he seated himself, taking a moment to catch their breath. “How do you want it?”

“Fuck me so hard I can’t walk,” she snarled, tangling her fingers in his hair and yanking his head towards her, crushing their lips together. He withdrew slowly and then slammed back into her, setting a punishing pace without giving her a chance to catch her breath. “Fuck, yes, Dean, just like that.” He wrapped his hands around her waist, tilting her hips up so that the head of his cock dragged across that spot that made her sob with each thrust.

She clawed at his back and he covered her throat and chest with teeth marks, their passion wild and harsh, tearing each other apart. The ring of muscle around the base of his cock started to swell and he swore. “Need you to come again sweetheart,” he said, his voice strained as he slid a hand between them to roughly strum her clit. “Come on, one more time and then I’ll give you this knot.”

Whether it was the fingers on her clit or the promise of a knot, she exploded, body shaking as she clamped down around his cock. He swore again, only managing a few more thrusts before seating himself inside of her just in time for his knot to pop, locking them together. Breathing hard he turned them onto their sides so he wouldn’t crush her.

With a soft hum she murmured, “Well that’s one way to greet a girl.” He laughed, smoothing her hair away from her face.

“What can I say, I needed you,” he said. Now that their lust was sated his touch was gentle, hands tracing the lines of her face, mapping the scattered freckles he’d already memorized.

“Apparently. We didn’t even close the door,” she teased, eyes slipping shut. “I was about to go to bed you know.”

Nuzzling her face he said, “I figured. You were in your pajamas. Go ahead and sleep, I’ll shut the door when my knot goes down.” Another soft hum was her only response as she drifted quickly off to sleep. It was another fifteen minutes before his knot shrank and he was able to pull out. The front door was shut and locked and he crawled back into bed, pulling her into his chest. He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he always got his best sleep in this cabin.

He woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon. Rolling over in bed, he glanced into the kitchen to see her working on bacon wearing his shirt. “You look good in my clothes,” he said, his voice rough from sleep, and he caught the corner of her lips turning up into a smile. “I’m not sure what I want more. You back in bed, or that bacon you’re cooking.” At that she laughed, throwing a smile at him over her shoulder.

“If you want the bacon you’ll have to get up,” she said, pulling the last of the bacon out of the pan. “You do remember my no eating in bed rule.”

“It’s a silly rule,” he said with a groan, dragging himself up and pulling on his boxers.

Her eyes narrowed, hand propped on her hip. “It is not a silly rule. Or do I have to remind you of the cupcake incident?” He grinned unrepentantly, moving across the small cabin to wrap his arm around her waist and drag her against him. There was no fight as he bent to brush his lips across hers, body melting into him. “Ah, you know I can’t stay mad at you when you kiss me like that,” she murmured.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty mad when I accidentally fucked up your cast iron,” he said, and she smacked his shoulder.

“Yeah, I still haven’t forgiven you. Do you know how long it took me to scrub the rust out of that?” She snapped without heat, trying not to grin. “Now are we going to eat this bacon or not?” Laughing, he released her and they ate in companionable silence. The dishes were cleaned up, and then he tossed her over his shoulder and headed back towards the bed.

A gasp escaped as she was tossed down, bouncing for a moment on the mattress. “I’m gonna take my time this morning,” he murmured, smoothing his hands up one of her legs and kissing a delicate ankle. “Have you whimpering and squirming and begging for me.”

“You know I don’t beg,” she said, her eyes hooded as he pressed another kiss to the inside of her knee. His only response was a grin and a nip to her inner thigh. Her hips arched towards his mouth, but he skipped over her hot core to press a kiss to her other thigh, making her whine. “You’re such a tease,” she complained.

His teeth sank into her thigh and she groaned, hands grasping at the sheets on either side of her head. “Have I ever told you how hot it is that you get off on me being rough?” He asked, soothing the bite with his tongue before continuing down her leg with gentle kisses.

“Only every time you see me,” she murmured, watching as he crawled up over her, nuzzling at her chin. Her legs moved to wrap around his hips, only to be batted away, making her pout.

“Not done savoring you sweetheart,” he said, trailing his lips down her throat before swiping his tongue across her scent gland. He groaned at the taste of her, hands clenching tight around her hips. “Fuck, taste so good.” With a sharp inhale, he murmured, “Smell so good too. Like a raging bonfire. Like freshly chopped wood.” It wasn’t the kind of gentle scent most omegas had, but then, she wasn’t a normal omega.

Fingers tangled in his hair and tightened, trying to pull his mouth up to hers, but he resisted, laving at her scent gland for another moment before continuing downwards. He gently drew one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers found the other, teasing and slow until she was squirming beneath him.

“Dean,” she whined, tugging on his hair again, making him grin.

“You gonna beg for me?” He asked, and she glared at him. With a shrug, he went back to what he was doing, tormenting her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Which came sooner than he expected as she shoved him enough to flip them over so she was straddling his waist. She wasted no time in sinking down onto his cock, making them both moan.

“This is much better,” she said with a grin, hands on his chest as she lifted her hips and sank back down, slowly getting used to his size. She knew he could take over at any point, but she also knew how much he loved watching her ride him.

His hands came up, groping her breasts before rolling her nipples between his fingers. Gone was his gentle touch, his fingers pinching and harsh and he could feel her walls flutter around him at the bite of pain. She ground her hips down, eyes rolling back from the intense sensation. He sat up, one hand sinking into her hair while the other wrapped around her back, helping her to rise and fall, faster and faster until they were both panting, their hips snapping together. “Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna-” Her words were cut off by the sound of a phone ringing.

“Ignore it,” he said, kissing her hard. It stopped ringing after a moment, and then immediately started up again.

“It could be important,” she panted. “I should check it.” His grip tightened and he thrust up into her harder, coercing her into ignoring it. The ringing stopped, and then once more went off. “Okay, I really gotta check that,” she said, squirming in his arms. She managed to break his grip and rolled across the bed to snatch the phone off the nightstand. He followed after her, slamming his cock back into her from behind. The phone nearly tumbled from her hands as a lusty moan escaped her. It nearly worked, until the phone rang again.

Trying to pull away from him, she hit answer and pressed it to her ear. “Hey,” she said, her voice slightly strained but otherwise normal. He’d never been able to figure out how she could sound so elegant even while having her brains fucked out. “Garth, hey.” Dean slowed at the familiar name. “A wendigo? Well they are one of my specialties.” She was quiet for a moment and he stroked his hands across her back, pulling out. “Yeah, no problem. Shoot me a text with the information.” A pause and then she laughed. “Hey no worries. I could use a challenge, and wendigos are one of my favorites. You can even consider this a favor to me, I haven’t done anything but ghosts in three months. I’ll look for your text. Talk later.”

She set the phone back on her nightstand and spun to face Dean, lips twisted down. “Sorry to cut our time short, Garth asked me to pick up a hunt,” she apologized, stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Want some help?” He asked, kissing her softly.

“Thanks for the offer, but you know I hunt alone,” she murmured, nipping his lower lip before pulling back. “I’ll let you know when the job is done, okay?” He nodded regretfully, watching as she moved through the cabin, getting dressed and packing a bag of essentials. “Feel free to stay as long as you like, just lock up when you leave,” she said, brushing a kiss across his lips on her way out.

He watched her hop into her car and pull away, leaning on her door frame with a grimace. It killed him every time she went on a hunt alone, always worried he’d never hear from her again. He had to remind himself she was a well trained, gifted hunter though, from a long line of hunters just like her. Not to mention she’d probably punch him if she knew how much he wished he could keep her home safe.

Knowing he couldn’t head back quite yet without making Sam suspicious, he left to grab a motel room for a night, making sure to lock her door with the key she’d given him. At the motel he reluctantly scrubbed all remaining traces of her scent from himself and the clothes he’d been wearing. They’d both agreed that it would be best for them to keep this, whatever this was, a secret, but lately it had been grating on him.

When he arrived back at the bunker the next day, he brightly told Sam that it was a breeze, missing the way his brother delicately sniffed while he passed by. He watched Dean disappear into his room, scratching the back of his neck. It was faint, but he’d almost thought he smelled something like a bonfire on him. He shook it off. It had been a salt and burn. It made sense he might smell like fire. Still, he couldn’t fight the suspicion that Dean was hiding something. All he could hope was that it wasn’t something dangerous.


	2. First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean reminisces on their first meeting and tries to deny that he actually might care about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever for some reason. I've been having trouble writing recently, just too damn tired. I work retail, so I'm apparently essential. But now I'm under quarantine for my health so I don't, you know, die. Which means plenty of time to write if anybody would like more. I have lots of ideas for one shots with these two.

It had been a week. He checked his phone for what felt like the millionth time. No messages. Nothing. She'd promised to tell him when the hunt was over, and she always had before, which meant one of two things. Either the hunt was ongoing, or something had happened to her. He itched to get a hold of Garth, to figure out where she'd gone so he could track her down and make sure she was safe. She'd be pissed though. Even more angry than she'd been after the cast iron incident.

Another glance at the phone made him groan and he set it aside. He needed to stop obsessing, it was going to drive him crazy. When had he become so attached to this girl? It hadn't been that way in the beginning, but now he found her on his mind more often than not. He couldn't help but to remember their first meeting, and he grinned despite his worry. Sam had been stuck in the bunker with a broken wrist, so he'd been following a lead on a shapeshifter alone.

He'd pulled up to the house he was investigating to find her standing there, playing what he eventually learned was Farmville on her phone. "You lost sweetheart?" He asked, hands tucked into his pockets as he approached her. The moonlight had reflected off her pale skin, riotous curls a fiery curtain over one shoulder. She didn't even glance at him, gaze intent on her game. "This isn't really a safe place to hang out."

"Because I'm a woman or because I'm an Omega?" She asked, voice like silk across his skin. To be honest, he hadn't even realized she was an Omega, but now that he could smell her he knew. She didn't smell like most omegas though, soft and delicate. Her scent was strong, a blazing bonfire that matched her hair.

He held his hands up, saying, "Neither, it's just not safe in general. Definitely not a sexist thing." She did finally glance up at him, and though he couldn't quite see their color, he definitely caught the glint of mischief. The corner of her lips had turned up slightly, and it did strange things to his stomach. "I'm Dean by the way," he said. "Dean-"

"I know who you are," she interrupted, turning off her phone and sticking it in her back pocket. "I don't think there's a hunter alive who doesn't know the Winchester boys." Her eyes studied him as if looking for something, and then she grinned so bright it took his breath away. "You're shorter than I expected."

He couldn't help but to roll his eyes. "So you're a hunter?" He asked, changing the subject. At her nod, he said, "Don't meet many omega hunters."

"What can I say, I'm one of a kind." Her gaze turned back up to the house in front of them. "I guess you're here tracking down the rawhead?"

"Don't you mean the shapeshifter?” He asked, watching as she dug around in the messenger bag she carried.

She hummed, rebutting, “If I meant shapeshifter, I’d have said shapeshifter. All of my research points to rawhead.” Her eyes turned up to his, one eyebrow arched. “You’re a good hunter Dean, but rawheads are my specialty. Them and Wendigos.”

Of all the things he may have expected to come out of her mouth, that was not it. “You specialize in Wendigos? Seriously?”

With a shrug she said, “Sure. I mean, I’ve dealt with all sorts of monsters, I just happen to be really good at dispatching them.”

“Well I have an idea,” he said with a charming smile. “If I’m right, you let me take you out to dinner. If you’re right, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

A startled laugh escaped her and his grin widened. “Are you proposing we work together on this Winchester? You should know, I don’t typically hunt with other people.” She regarded him for a moment before shrugging. “You know what, sure, I think I can work with you this one time. However, if I’m right, you come back to my motel room and fuck me until neither of us can walk.”

He choked. “You- wait- what?”

She winked at him. “Dinner is overrated,” she said, moving towards the house. She ended up being right, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed about losing their bet. Especially when she pulled a sharpie out of her messenger bag and wrote down the name of the motel she was staying at and her room number on his arm. With a wink and a grin, she said, “Just give me some time to shower first. I don’t even want to think about what I’m covered in.”

Tilting his head to the side, he watched her walk off, admiring the curve of her ass. Definitely not disappointed. He took the time to shower as well, knowing he probably stunk, before driving over to her motel. Trying the door to her room, he found it unlocked and slipped inside. The sound of the shower shutting off drew him towards the bathroom, and he slid through the open door as quietly as possible.

She was turned away from him, focused on toweling off her body, when he snuck up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Not caring about the water that soaked into his clothes, he dragged her back against his body, growling into her ear, “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked. You never know who might take advantage.”

“You’re assuming you have the advantage here,” she murmured, head falling back onto his chest as her hands came up to thread through his hair. “Maybe I have you right where I want you." She hummed in thought before saying, "Okay, maybe not quite where I want you. I'd prefer you naked and in bed, but beggars can't be choosers."

"I think we can manage something like that," he said with a grin scooping her up to toss her on the bed. She sat up on her elbows, watching with hungry eyes as he stripped slowly out of his clothes. "You keep looking at me like that and I'm not going to have the patience to take my time with you."

"Screw taking your time," she responded, spreading her legs and giving him a tantalizing view of her already slick soaked pussy. "Get over here and fuck me."

"Yes ma'am," he responded, shoving his pants down, swearing as they got tangled in his shoes. Finally naked, he prowled across the bed until he hovered over her. "How do you want this sweetheart?" He asked, brushing a kiss across her shoulder.

Her hands sank into his hair, yanking his head up so she could crush her lips into his. "Hard and fast," she growled, and he responded with a snarl, curling a hand around her throat and reaching down with the other to line his cock up with her warm hole. Her legs wrapped around his, hands scrambling at his shoulders, and he thrust hard, sinking balls deep with the very first stroke. Not giving her time to accommodate him, he thrust hard again, building up speed. He knew the hand on her throat would leave bruises, but as he tossed one of her legs over her shoulder, he found he didn't care.

"Fuck, Dean, I'm gonna come," she cried, body arching and surging against his. His head turned, teeth sinking into the meat of her calf and sending her over the edge. She came with a sob, nails leaving harsh lines down his back as her cunt tightened around him almost painfully. He only managed a few more thrusts before his knot popped, tying them together.

Panting and gasping for air, his hand slipped from her throat to slide gently through her hair. "Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to knot you," he said with a grimace.

"I'd have been pissed if you didn't," she responded, her voice elegant despite the way she still clenched down around him, sending more spurts of cum jetting inside of her. "We'll have to take a shower once you go down, I hate being messy."

"You inviting me to take a shower with you?" He asked turning them on their side and wincing when it tugged at his knot. "It's not very big, it might be a close fit with two people."

A purr rumbled through her chest and her mouth sucked a bruise into his shoulder. "We'll just have to get very, very close." There was nothing about that idea that he didn't like, and he told her so just to see that brilliant grin again.

It only took a couple of minutes for his knot to go down, and she dragged him into the shower. He’d been right, it was definitely a tight fit, requiring their bodies to be almost pressed together. It made it a little hard to wash, but they didn’t really care. A wicked grin on his face, he dropped down to his knees in front of her, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, Dean,” she moaned, hands tangling in his hair as he swiped his tongue up the length of her slit, pausing to flick across her clit. He set about devouring her with a hungry groan, making her squirm against the wall. She was so close, right there, right on the edge, unable to tip over. Her hand tightened in his hair, yanking his head back so he was looking up at her. “Two fingers,” she growled. “Gently. But treat my clit like you fucking hate it.”

A grin crossed his lips at her bossiness, and he switched up his tactics, doing as she said. In no time she was crying out, her knees buckling, held up only by the leg over her shoulder and the hand on her hip. A steady stream of swears escaped her lips as she came, body twitching and squirming on the wall, and then came again. He didn’t stop until he’d pulled a third from her before standing up and spinning her around.

“Hands on the wall,” he said, bending her over in the small shower. Her hands slammed down on the wall, back arching, looking back at him with wild eyes. One hand wrapped around her long curls, using them to pull her head back, forcing her back to arch further as he slammed inside of her. The loud cry that slid from her throat urged him on, pounding into her and pulling yet another orgasm from her shuddering body. He felt his knot start to thicken and swore, spinning her around and yanking her up in his arms, her back pressed against the cold tiles.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, nails leaving yet more marks on his back, teeth sinking into his throat below his ear. Their bodies ground against each other, no longer thrusting harshly but still so intense her eyes rolled back into her head. Sinking into her as deep as he could, his knot thickened, locking him inside of her and sending her spiraling into one last orgasm.

They panted, wrapped around each other as he tried to stop trembling enough to move. Once he thought he could walk without crumbling, he turned off the shower and walked them carefully to the bed. They curled up on their sides again, waiting as his knot went down so they could separate again.

He laughed after a moment. “I didn’t want to accidentally knot you from behind in the shower,” he explained, making her laugh as well.

“Yeah, that might have been a little uncomfortable,” she teased, kissing him gently.

His fingers traced the band of freckles across her nose, the ones scattered across her shoulders, mapping the marks he’d left around her throat. “You know, this is probably the best sex I’ve ever had, and I don’t actually know your name,” he said.

She hummed sleepily, tucking her head under his chin. “I don’t have one.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and he almost jerked back before remembering they were still locked together. “Everybody has a name,” he said, brow furrowed.

“Not me,” she responded, snuggling into him. “I don’t have one.” Before he could grill her for a real answer, he heard her breathing even out. Oh well, he could ask her in the morning. If she was still around. Then again, this was technically her motel room.

The other side of the bed was empty when he woke up in the morning, and for a moment he worried maybe she’d left already. He sat up at the sound of water turning off, and felt a strange wash of relief watching her leave the bathroom, fully dressed with her hair braided down her back.

A grin appeared on her face at the sight of him awake. “Good morning sleeping beauty,” she teased as she started to pack her belongings in a black duffel bag. “It’s almost noon, I wasn’t sure you’d ever wake up.” He groaned as he forced himself up out of the bed, a little sore between the fight the night before and subsequent rough sex. “Hope you don’t mind that I’m running out on you so early. I’m all for morning after cuddles, but I got a phone call from my father asking for some help.”

He stumbled over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and interrupting her packing. “I promise not to be mad if you give me another of those sweet kisses,” he said, grinning at the sound of her laugh. She turned in his arms, fingers threading through his hair to pull him down. The kiss she gave him was sweet and gentle and way too short for his liking.

The last of her things were tossed haphazardly into her duffel bag, and she offered him one last grin. “I left you a note on the table,” she said with a wink, and then she was gone. The note was easy to find, written on one of the motel’s complimentary notepad. ‘Text me any time,’ was all it read in neat handwriting, followed by a phone number. His disappointment at her quick exit fled immediately, and the number was burned into his memory. He was sure it wouldn’t be long before he was using it.

\---

A soft chime woke him up, and he blearily swatted at his phone, flinching at the bright light that assaulted him when he unlocked it. There was only one word, from an unlisted number, but it made him grin with relief.

‘Home’

Another text followed soon after.

‘Want to come play nurse?’

Yes, he absolutely did. Now all he had to do was think of an excuse to leave without Sam being suspicious, not realizing that it was far too late for that.


End file.
